


(let me) fix you

by dirtyinfluences



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub, M/M, Rope Bondage, Sexual Content, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyinfluences/pseuds/dirtyinfluences
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s in the angle of his shoulders and the way he hunches in on himself. Because Combeferre is nothing if not perceptive, he’s spent months observing Grantaire within the context of their relationship, and he can typically tell Grantaire’s mood from body language alone.</p><p>(He knows from experience that Grantaire won’t ask. They may be comfortable in their relationship, but Grantaire still finds it hard to ask for help.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	(let me) fix you

**Author's Note:**

> For [this](http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/13488.html?thread=10136240#t10136240) prompt at the kink meme: 
> 
>  
> 
> _Combeferre is a caring and attentive dom, whereas Grantaire is a sub prone to self-destructive tendencies._
> 
>  
> 
> _Somehow they make it work._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Also partially inspired by [this](http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/13488.html?thread=10771632#t10771632) prompt:
> 
> _combeferre fucking grantaire to tears, whispering how beautiful he is and how much he loves him_
> 
>  _feel free to take this in a dom/sub direction i just need combeferre/grantaire porn_ L

Usually, all it takes is a hand curved around the nape of his neck and a whisper in his ear for Grantaire to settle. The warm, gentle pressure of Combeferre’s hand, thumb pressed into his skin and rubbing circles, balances him better than any other attempt of equilibrium Grantaire has tried in the past. 

(It was this particular gesture that had sparked the whole thing – had made them aware of what the other could offer. Combeferre had, being physically closest to Grantaire, curled his hand around the back of his neck and told him, “Be calm, my friend” and the wildness in Grantaire’s eyes had been allayed and his rigid posture had relaxed; things neither had been able to ignore.)

But sometimes it’s not enough. Their jagged edges don’t always line up perfectly, and sometimes Grantaire’s storm cannot be quelled by a touch alone. They’re both too smart to expect things to be easy, or for things to have been magically all fixed by entering a relationship, and it would be an insult to their intelligences to assume as such. For all that Combeferre is a caring and attentive dom, and able to gauge exactly what Grantaire needs, Grantaire is also incredibly prone to self-destructive behaviour – he has always been prone to self-destruction, long before knowing the Amis, and long before he had come to terms with his own submissive nature.

But they’ve been together long enough that Combeferre knows by the way Grantaire carries himself when he walks into the meeting that night that it is not going to be one of the good nights. It’s in the angle of his shoulders and the way he hunches in on himself. Because Combeferre is nothing if not perceptive, he’s spent months observing Grantaire within the context of their relationship, and he can typically tell Grantaire’s mood from body language alone. He gives half his attention to Enjolras, the other half focused on watching Grantaire settle down next to Joly and Bousset, intending to watch him through the meeting in order to figure out the best course of action for later. 

(He knows from experience that Grantaire won’t ask. They may be comfortable in their relationship, but Grantaire still finds it hard to ask for help.)

This will be about preventative action, that much is clear. Grantaire is only at the beginning of the cycle, which will make things much easier than if he was already in the middle of a self-destructive binge. Combeferre can still nip it in the bud, so to speak.

When it becomes apparent, an hour and a half later, that there is little else to accomplish this meeting with the way everyone has broken into individual conversations, Combeferre excuses himself, moving over to Grantaire and placing a hand on his shoulder. Nothing more, nothing less, as he waits for Grantaire to make his exit from whatever he has been talking about with Joly and Bousset – he doesn’t actively listen in. It takes a few minutes, but finally Grantaire makes an excuse to leave, promising the duo a night out soon; when Grantaire stands, Combeferre slides his hand down to rest at the small of his back, guiding him from the room and out into the streets.

No words are spoken as they walk back to Combeferre’s apartment, but Grantaire does light a cigarette at some point, which he shares with his guide, taking deep, lingering drags before handing it over. He can’t read minds so there’s no way to know what’s going through Grantaire’s, but Combeferre uses the travel time to collect himself together and settle himself mentally where he needs to be. It’s easy to slip into, and he feels fully prepared by the time they reach his apartment. Killing the cigarette, he flicks it off to the side, opening the door and beckoning Grantaire inside. Once the door is closed, he places a hand to the side of the other man’s head, drawing him in for a kiss.

“Into the bedroom and clothes off. Wait on the bed.” He tells him against his lips, waiting for Grantaire to nod before pulling away. Obediently, Grantaire heads to the bedroom, and Combeferre thinks that his steps already look maybe a bit lighter and less tense than before.

He stops by the kitchen to fill a glass with water from the tap, pausing there to wait in silence, during which he counts his heartbeats as a time measure, before taking the glass and relocating to the bedroom. Sure enough, Grantaire has followed his instructions beautifully, naked and lounging among the pillows on the bed. When Combeferre places the glass on the nightstand, he takes a moment to squeeze Grantaire’s knee – a grounding action. Because, he decided earlier, tonight will be about grounding Grantaire; to keep him tethered from falling too far away into himself. 

“I’m going to tie you.” He informs calmly, with one last squeeze, before he goes to retrieve the necessary equipment housed away in his closet. While he’s up he takes the time to get undressed, tugging at his tie, letting his belt fall to the floor and unbuttoning his shirt slowly. He also gathers other things he’ll need later, like the lubrication and condoms from his dresser. It isn’t long before he’s kneeling on the bed again, ropes in hand and everything else resting at the foot of the bed. With steady hands he coaxes Grantaire, who watches each movement with undivided attention, to move his limbs into the proper places he needs.

Grantaire, for his part, stays perfectly still throughout the process of looping and weaving, moving only when he’s prompted to; sitting up when he’s guided so Combeferre can work the rope around his torso, his movements sure and nimble as he crafts his favourite pattern together. When he finishes the first rope, tying it securely, Combeferre moves off the bed to inspect his work with a hum of approval. When he gets back on the bed, he reclines Grantaire back down, moving his arms above his head and using the second rope to bind his arms together, creating knots above the elbows and at his forearms and wrists, and with the remaining rope he ties Grantaire to the bedpost.

“I’ve got you.” Combeferre tells Grantaire, lacing his fingers through his hair and tugging as a reward for behaving so wonderfully. “Such a good boy. You look so beautiful tied up like this.” He informs, watching the way Grantaire flushes at the compliment; he wants very much to kiss him for it, but holds himself back for the time being. Instead, he nudges Grantaire’s legs open to settle between them, using his hands to map out a path across the ropes.

He starts at Grantaire’s thighs, circling his thumbs into the flesh there, letting his nails catch, before sliding up, bypassing the other man’s hardening cock in favour of dragging his nails across the exposed skin of his stomach.

“It really is lovely. Seeing you in ropes, tied to my bed. You belong here. With me.” Combeferre says as he continues his roaming, hands splayed out over Grantaire’s chest. He takes his time, toying with his partner’s nipples, pinching and thumbing at them until Grantaire is squirming and making low, throaty sounds. “So beautiful. What if I fucked you like this?” Combeferre suggests, liking the idea as soon as it leaves his lips. “Would you like that?” 

“Yes, please. Please, Combeferre, _yes_.” Grantaire all but whimpers, back arching up as fingers tap down his sides.

Combeferre, pleased with the positive response, slowly pulls away to grab for the lubrication and condoms he had dropped off at the foot of the bed earlier. He flicks open the bottle of lube first, spilling some onto his palm and taking Grantaire’s cock into hand. He’s already hard, hot and silken against his palm as he lazily jerks his hand up and down, lubrication helping the way. In response, Grantaire breathes harshly through his nose, and Combeferre watches his face contort in pleasure as he strokes him.

“Good boy.” Combeferre repeats his earlier phrase, cupping Grantaire’s balls and rolling them in his hand before probing down further to start preparing him. “I love that you’re mine, my good boy. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He continues to talk as he pushes in with a single digit, and then as he works in a second. It’s a role reversal, in a way – in meetings, on his good days, Grantaire is prone to long, and tedious speeches that somehow still stay on topic. Here, in bed, words are another thing Combeferre takes the reins of and holds domain over. “So beautiful. I’ve said it before, but you’re so beautiful. You submit so wonderfully for me, and you look so lovely.” 

“Combeferre, please.” Grantaire breaks in, fingers grasping at the ropes holding him to the bed for additional leverage as he rocks back onto Combeferre’s fingers, gasping as a third is added. By now his blush has spread, painting his chest as red as his face. “I need you to be screwing me.”

“Soon enough. Am I not to enjoy such a beautiful specimen?” Combeferre shushes him, humming appreciatively as he flexes his fingers and stretches just that little bit more. Once he’s satisfied that he’s been properly prepared, Combeferre pulls back to take himself in hand, stroking leisurely and gazing at his so called specimen and the beautiful picture made. He makes a show of rolling the condom on, knowing Grantaire is watching, tipping the bottle of lubrication up and letting the contents poor straight onto his dick. It’s messy, and a fair bit drips onto the sheets, but he doesn’t pay it much mind as he uses his hand to spread the lube over his shaft.

After a few more quick strokes, Combeferre shuffles back in close to Grantaire, using his clean hand to thread his fingers into the man’s hair and tug as he pushes in, using his other hand as a guide. “I have you.” He whispers, leaning in close.

He doesn’t wait long once he’s bottomed out, starting out with shallow thrusts of his hips that quickly turn deeper and harder. He stays leaned in over Grantaire, nipping at his ear and whispering to him. The hand still slicked with lube holds Grantaire’s thigh into place at his waist, and he uses the other to play with the rope in various spots, fingers hooking underneath and stroking skin. 

“I love you so much, R. Your submission. Your personality. You’re wonderful and talented and beautiful.” Combeferre tells him as he continues to fuck him, words calm and gentle where his thrusts are fast and hard. He moves away from Grantaire’s neck, resting his forehead to his. “Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. Just like this.” He continues to tell him, watching as tears start welling in Grantaire’s eyes. “Beautiful.”

Somewhere along the way, Combeferre takes Grantaire’s cock in hand again, and Grantaire’s tears start falling freely with each passing word of endearment. Everything becomes focused on sensation; the tightness and heat of Grantaire stretched around his cock, the feeling of the rope brushing against his skin with every movemen – the sound of Grantaire’s moans mixed in with the tiny hitches of his crying. 

Combeferre reaches his climax first, coiled tension bursting in a wave of heat that tingles its way through his body. 

Grantaire follows a few minutes later into Combeferre’s hand, and Combeferre holds him as he shakes his way through orgasm. He continues to hold him as he comes down from his high, gasping in heavy breathes around his sobs. Once he’s sure Grantaire is safely grounded again, Combeferre moves to wipe off his hand and start untying the ropes with deft fingers, working opposite to his earlier routine.

With the last of the knots undone and the rope pushed off to the side, Combeferre collects Grantaire into his arms, murmuring about how well he had done and brushing away his tears with his thumbs. Grantaire, for his part, holds on just as fiercely.

“Perfectly done, Grantaire. You were perfect. I have you, I’m not letting go.” Combeferre says, rubbing at the marks left behind by the ropes and coaxing him into drinking some of the water that he had brought in with him earlier. He stays until Grantaire finally moves on his own, drawing himself up to place a lazy kiss to the corner of Combeferre’s mouth. “Feeling better?” He asks, watching the way Grantaire languidly stretches all his limbs and flexes his muscles.

“Much better, thank you.” Grantaire replies with a slight incline of his head. In response, Combeferre curls a hand around the back of his neck. It won’t be the last time that the situation happens, and next time Combeferre might not be able to catch Grantaire until he's already started in on his self-destructive ways, but for now it’s enough.

They’re not perfect. But they make it work.

**Author's Note:**

> This almost didn't happen. And then the sudden influx of terrific Combeferre/Grantaire fics for the week happened and I almost backed out again. So you can blame my friend entirely for this being posted. orz
> 
> As for the lack of safe word mention, I'm going on the assumption that Combeferre and Grantaire would already have an established safe word/system in place as this isn't a one time thing
> 
> (For someone who reads as much porn as I do, you'd think it'd be much easier to write.)
> 
> Vita Chambers' Fix You was the themesong to writing this, therefore title is taken from the lyrics. Working title, courtesy of my friend, was "Untitled french boy bondage porn, part 1". She seems to think this is a part 1.


End file.
